Love?
by BeaumontRulz
Summary: “The advantage of true love is that it’s not just a fleeting feeling. It stays with you for the rest of your life. Even if you fall out of love, you will always remember those feelings. True love is imprinted on your mind forever.” HHr and they're writing


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

**A/N: This is dedicated to the lovely and wonderful darkspyro. She asked me how to define love and I decided to write it down… it turned into a silly little plot line. Thanks go to her for this drabble… lol I don't think it really has much point. Harry and Hermione are already together… they're working together on an essay, as you already know. I really hope you like it… and I'm sorry if the definition of love isn't what it is – I've not felt anything worthy of that word lately.**

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**Love?**

"This is a bloody stupid essay," Harry grumbled, tickling his chin with the end of his feathered quill.

"If you just do it –"

"My brain might turn to mush," he said, glaring at Hermione. "Love potions aren't even allowed at Hogwarts!"

"We still need to learn how to make them Harry," she said reasonably, patting his thigh softly with her free hand. "Moody showed us the Unforgivables."

"That wasn't Moody," Harry said sullenly.

"Dumbledore still gave permission."

"Yeah well… this is still stupid."

"The faster you finish it, the faster you can go to bed Harry," she said in an annoying sing song voice.

Harry sighed and looked sideways at Hermione, before muttering, "Why do you always have to be right?"

"Because I'm Hermione," she said, grinning as she finished a sentence with a small flourish. "Besides, if you finish early I _might_ come up to your dorm tonight."

Harry looked straight at her this time and grinned, "Alright," before beginning to work very hard, and surprisingly fast on his essay.

---

Half an hour later, Hermione had finished her essay and was busy re-reading it, when Harry sighed exasperatedly again.

"What's wrong now?" she asked, frowning and looking down at his almost finished essay.

"I need to define love, to compare it with the effects of the love potion," he said, frowning at his essay. "I don't know how to define love though."

Hermione sighed and frowned, looking thoughtful. "How do you feel when you think about your parents?"

"Betrayed and sad."

"The Weasleys?"

"Happy, but jealous."

"… Me?"

Harry smiled and looked away from her at the fire that had begun to die down, "Complete and utter happiness. It's like this… warmth rises in my chest and I just want to explode. Sometimes it's constricting because I can't express myself fully," he looked back at Hermione with an apologetic grin, "But it's definitely a good feeling."

"Alright; so say that," she said simply, smiling warmly at him and leaning over to kiss his cheek softly.

"But how?"

"Say that while the love potion gives an immediate feeling of love and lust, true and _real_ love has those feelings, but also immense respect. The advantage of true love is that it's not just a fleeting feeling. It stays with you for the rest of your life. Even if you fall out of love, you will always remember those feelings. The love potion comes and goes. True love is imprinted on your mind forever."

Harry finished his essay and sat back, cracking his fingers and yawning slightly. "Is that what it's really like?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

She smiled and nodded, moving forward to slip her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest. "Love is one of the most wonderful things in the world."

"Can we go to my dorm now?" he asked cheekily, touching her chin so she was looking up at him.

She grinned mischievously and slid off the couch to stand up in front of him, "Of course."

---

A silencing charm and two rather steamy hours later, Harry found himself lying on his back, watching Hermione rearrange herself in the bed, trying to get comfortable and grunting softly each time she realised she wasn't comfortable.

"Why are you so comfortable?" she grumbled, sitting up in exasperation and looking back at him.

"Because I'm with you," he said, grinning a very cheeky grin.

She smiled and poked his stomach softly, "Could you go for a more cheesy line?"

"I thought I'd spare you the extent of my 'cheesiness' considering what you just did to me," he said with another wide grin.

"Good boy," she muttered, grunting as she pulled her legs out from under the covers to lie on top of them, panting slightly.

"If you keep on doing that I'm going to have to pounce on you again," Harry warned her, watching her breasts move up and down.

She laughed and turned on her side, resting her arm on the curve of her waist and playing with her belly button softly, "Then I might just keep on doing what I'm doing."

"Tease."

"Thank you," she laughed again, poking her tongue out at him. She shivered slightly, "I'm cold now."

"Get under the covers then, silly," Harry said, sitting up and trying to hold the covers up for her.

"Alright," she said, climbing back under with him and snuggling up to him, sliding her arm across his stomach and moving one of her legs to slide it between his. "I'm comfortable now," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder.

He smiled, "Good." There was a small silence before Harry asked the question that had been bugging him ever since Hermione described the difference to real love and the effects of the love potion,

"How do you _know_ when you're in love?"

She frowned slightly and looked up at him.

"You don't… really know for sure. Love is one of those wondrous things that we mere mortals can't define," she smiled knowingly. "But I think… love is just a cultivation of attraction to one's personality, their physical self and… everything they do. Love is the only thing _good_ left in this world. If it leaves, there is only deceit, hatred and bigotry. Only the negative things in life are completely certain… positive things aren't."

"Then how do you know you love me?"

She smiled easily this time, "Because I'm unbearably attracted to you physically, I'm intolerably attracted to your personality, and I love everything you do. I love that after you were banned, you're still doing Quidditch…"

He snorted, "You hate it Hermione."

She grinned apologetically and slapped his shoulder, "I hate the game, but I love that you do what you love. Besides, I do find your Quidditch robes terribly irresistible."

Harry grinned and pulled her a little closer, "Oh good. That _was_ why I started playing Quidditch in the first place."

She laughed, "Oh I can tell." They were silent for a moment, Hermione running her fingernails up his bare torso. "Is my description adequate Harry?" she asked, moving over in the bed to straddle his lap again.

He grinned and ran his hands down her side to her naked hips, holding her firmly, "Of course. Your descriptions are always _more_ than adequate," he replied, leaning up and kissing her lips softly.

---

**The End**


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